


Crystal Gaze

by Nymphaeus



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Ambiguous Male Warrior of Light, Anal Fingering, Fantasizing, M/M, Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Masturbation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Not dealing with attraction in a healthy way, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possibly One-Sided Attraction (it's not made clear), Sexual Fantasy, Shame, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 14:27:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20565854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nymphaeus/pseuds/Nymphaeus
Summary: "What he decidedly had not intended to do, was to catch the Warrior of Light in a state of undress that had already left the boundaries of decency far behind."or, The Crystal Exarch misses his chance of not watching the Warrior of Light in a private moment and ends up dealing with the predicament that leaves him in.





	Crystal Gaze

**Author's Note:**

> This only exists because I had a term paper to write.  
Also, it was supposed to be humour, but suddenly there was a dick and things escalated from there.

It was an honest mistake. An accident. It was the worst of all the bad timings in the world and it happened without any ill intent on his part. 

All the Exarch had intended to do was to have a quick look, just to see how his hero was faring.

What he decidedly had not intended to do, was to catch the Warrior of Light in a state of undress that had already left the boundaries of decency far behind. 

An argument could be made on why he was spying on the Warrior in the first place. But to that he would respond - mildly flustered, glad that most of his face was hidden, and only half-convinced himself – that he was merely worried about the Warrior's well-being and that he had only ever wanted to make sure that everything was to his comfort. And if there was something he could do to ease his struggles even just the tiniest bit, he would see to it personally. By literally seeing to it. It was a weak defence, but at least there was no lie in it. He was genuinely worried about the Warrior at every waking moment, which, coincidentally, were all his moments.

Naturally, when the hero had left with the rest of his comrades to find and slay another Lightwarden, these feelings of worry had reached a peak. It got so bad in fact, that he hadn't been able to concentrate on any of his responsibilities. And since there had not been much else for him to do except for worrying and waiting upon the Warrior's safe return, he had settled for nervously pacing inside the Ocular as his main activity for the day. He had tried pacing outside as well. He had been pacing in the gardens and along the market and that went well so far. But when he had started pacing along the usual routes of the Crystarium guards, Lyna – who was not trying to hard to hide her exasperation – informed him that he was making everyone else nervous as well, with all that pacing. He got the hint. 

And when the hero of the Source finally strode through the main gate, very much alive and in one piece, the Exarch felt at last some sense of relief. Not enough, though, to put his mind completely at ease. During the quick conversation they had shared after the Warrior's victorious return to the Crystarium, the other had assured him that he was feeling fine, albeit a bit worn and tired, but that was to be expected after an undertaking such as this. And although the Exarch really had no reason to doubt the hero's words, he also knew about the other's wish not to be a burden on his friends and allies and his tendency to bottle his feelings up and hide his wounds away, be them physical or mental ones. He had simply wanted to check on him. That was really all. 

The Warrior was no longer wearing his battle torn clothes, that much was obvious. So very, very obvious. Armour pieces lay strewn around the room, most pieces lay widespread on the floor, as if he had been walking aimlessly from one corner to the next, pulling them off one by one and just dropping them where he stood. A single vambrace had found its way onto a chair nearby. Also – the man was practically naked. 

It took the Exarch a split second to process the image that he was seeing and then all he felt was the sudden burn of heat rising in his cheeks, with the rest of his body almost immediately following suit.

The Warrior had his back turned to the observer, allowing an unobstructed view of his backside. Apparently, he had just been in the process of removing his undershirt, pulling it over his head – the motion straining and perfectly showing off his back muscles. The whole performance was decidedly to graceful for a man who had no idea he had just become the main entertainer in an unintended strip show act. And to make matters worse, this ultimately left the hero's close-fitting undergarments as the last barrier of protection for his modesty. They did – admittedly – an awful job. All they seemed to do was to further highlight the firmness of the Hero's ass by hugging his form way too tightly.

Somewhere on the margins of his consciousness G'raha was aware he was staring. Somewhere even further back, he also knew that he shouldn't be doing that.

To say that the Warrior of Light was in good shape was an understatement. Of course the Exarch had conceptionally known that. One does not fight beasts and armies and Primals and come out victorious, battle after battle, without being in peak physical condition. But it was an entirely different thing of seeing the actual, real, unconcealed proof. 

With a quick toss, the shirt had joined the arm guard on the chair. The abrupt movement seemed to momentarily pull the Exarch back into the present and the realization of what exactly it was, that he was doing here, hit him like a brick to the face. Hastily, he was trying to dispel the image, and he would have succeeded, if it had not been in that exact moment, that the Warrior turned around and the Crystal Exarch forgot how to breathe. 

In the soft, flickering light of the partially dimmed lamps, the hero's skin had an unnatural glow to it – just as warm as the illuminating lights themselves, they seemed to dance on his skin in surreal reverence. The hero's back had already been a sight to behold and to the Exarch's utmost delight and horror, his front proved to be even more so. The Warrior's athletic build was already apparent when he was all dressed up in battle gear, but without even so much as a shirt he was downright awe-inspiring. His pecs were remarkably firm. Probably the nicest ones G'raha had ever seen on another man. Well. Not that he had been keeping strict record of other men's musculature. At least not as fas as he would ever avow himself.

After having taken in the hero's impressive chest, his eyes began to wander. They were involuntarily drawn downwards, from the hero's toned lower abdomen, lingering on the narrow dip of his hipbones – which just looked so perfect for grasping in the throws of passion – along the soft hairs leading right down to the Warrior's crotch. On his next breath, the Exarch forgot to close his mouth again. 

Just as the view of the Warrior's backside had already suggested, his smallclothes left nothing up to the imagination. He could plainly see the outline of the Warrior's dick. He tried to swallow. But his mouth had run dry. His bulge was perfectly proportionate to the rest of his body. He wasn't hard, of course. Why would he be? But the stray thought still sneaked into the Exarch's head, wondering how much bigger the Warrior might get, when properly aroused. 

The Exarch was mesmerized and then rightfully appalled by his own actions. What was he thinking? What was he doing? Watching the Warrior of Light with a lustful gaze? With such impure thoughts? 

With some effort, that was aided by the shock about his own behaviour, he managed to pry his eyes away. This wasn't like him at all! He cared about the Warrior, yes! And he admired him deeply. But he certainly had never held any ulterior motives for helping the man in every way or shape that he could. None, that went beyond saving the world from devastating destruction. None, that were...improper in nature. Was seeing the other man undressed already enough to awaken such unbefitting desires inside him? He quickly lifted the hand that was not currently clutching his staff – his flesh and blood hand – to cover his eyes. If he couldn't see, the thoughts might disappear.

The Exarch took a deep breath. And then another. And another. Until his breathing came out a little less shaky. And then he carefully peeked through his fingers at the image that still showed the Warrior in his private chambers. 

He didn't know what he had expected to see. As it were, the hero had moved towards his bed. A matter the Exarch quickly deduced from his observation that the man was now sitting on its edge, still not wearing anything but his smallclothes. By adding up the general warmth in the Pendants with the fact, that the man was evidently in the process of his nightly routine and readying himself for bed, the Exarch reached another quick conclusion: that the Warrior of Light must be sleeping mostly in the nude. He wasn't sure what to make of that insight. Yes, the Pendants rooms tended to be kept cosily heated, but they still experienced many chilly nights here in Lakeland. It would be terrible if his hero would get sick by accident. The last thing the Warrior needed was to fight the common cold in addition to the Sin Eaters.

This thought reminded him of his original plan, the reason he had been prying into the hero's chambers in the first place: To make sure, he was truly alright, as he had claimed earlier. And so the Exarch readied himself to take another good look. He immediately blushed again. Not like this. This time, he tried to really assess the Warrior's state. He had been momentarily surprised by the hero's admittedly impressive body. Now he was trying to make sure his friend was doing okay.

The man was sitting on the side of the bed, elbows on his legs, chin on his folded hands, as if deep in thought. If the Exarch dared to look closely he could see the discolouration of bruising starting to form on the Warrior's skin. They were still light in places, but bound to darken over time. Again, that was to be expected after battling a Lightwarden and he trusted in the Warrior's skills and expertise enough to know when his wounds needed medical care and when he could just bear them. So, yes, he was maybe a bit battered, but nothing immediately alarming. Harder to determine was his emotional state. The man looked contemplating. He looked tired. And it made the Exarch wish the hero would just come and talk to him, when he had need for conversation, or maybe just wanted to get a few things off his chest. The Exarch would always be glad to offer companionship and an open ear. But he knew the other man well enough to also know, that this was unlikely to happen, no matter how many times he professed his willingness to help. Or how much he wished it to be so. But then again, it wasn't as if the Exarch himself were one to talk on such matters. So, as it stood, he wasn't exactly in the right position to judge the hero. Not unless he wanted to admit to his own hypocrisy. 

The Warrior of Light let himself fall back on his bed. There was a heaviness about him. But then again, the Exarch conceded, the burden the Warrior of Light carried was never going to be an easy one. And yet, the hero did not yield. It was commendable. And the Exarch was once again reminded of the deep admiration he felt towards the man.

For a while G'raha was lost in his own pondering, just blankly watching the Warrior of Ligh. Which was the reason why he missed his second chance to just end the transmission and leave the hero his well-earned, unobserved rest.

And when the Exarch finally realized that indeed things had been happening, he couldn't believe the sight that was presenting itself to him. The Warrior had lain down on his back, resting on top of his covers, head propped up on his pillow. At first glance, he was just lounging around on his bed, or finally trying to settle in for the night; or so the Exarch had assumed, before he noticed what the hero was doing with his hands. The Exarch's own hand covered his mouth in shock as a quick gasp left his lips. It was as if the rest of his body had turned to crystal as well – right then and there. 

The Warrior was palming at the bulge of his cock that was still confined beneath the fabric of his undergarments, apparently right in the middle of arousing himself. The hand on his cock was grasping at it, massaging it with care. Occasionally, he would stop to idly stroke along the outline with his fingertips, clearly in no hurry to move further, most likely enjoying the slow build up of his excitement. 

The heat in his head had crawled all the way up to G'raha's ears and he was sure, that the colour of his face must now match the colouring of his hair and his Allagan eyes, although he couldn't verify that himself.

The hero's hand that hadn't been occupied, so far just resting on the hero's lower belly, now also began to explore other parts of his body. Gently stroking his way upwards, towards this wonderful chest. Touching fingertips to a nipple, softly rubbing for a moment, before abandoning it again to instead lift the same fingers up to his lips, wetting them with his tongue. In an instant they were back on his nipple, circling it, giving it a sharp pinch on occasion, until it was growing stiff under the hero's fondling. A shiver ran through the man's body.

The Exarch almost didn't dare to look at the hero's face again. Almost. He had closed his eyes, lips lightly parted, brows slightly furrowed, the enjoyment of his own ministrations definitely showing on the man's features. He looked sublime. It was as if his earlier tension was slowly being replaced by the tensions of the man's growing physical need. Speaking of which – all the while, the Warrior's other hand was continuously caressing his erection through the fabric of his pants, which had been tight before, but were now looking to be uncomfortably straining. A thought that had apparently also occurred on the hero's mind, since not a moment later, the Warrior had dropped the hand that had been stimulating his nipples back towards pelvis. He brushed along his inner thighs a few times, the pressure on his heightened arousal seemingly not yet painful enough to rush. But in time, the Warrior put his hands to the waistband of his smallclothes, pulling them down cautiously, just enough for him to free his already well enlarged cock. G'raha's heart skipped a beat.

And if watching before hadn't been in the best of tastes, it absolutely had crossed the line now. Why was he still doing this? This was all sorts of wrong. The Warrior of Light was deserving of his privacy. And even worse, the man trusted him. And the Exarch was sure, this was an unacceptable violation of that trust. His cheeks were burning up again, this time with shame. And, yet, he also couldn't stop himself. He was mesmerized by the view – by the man he saw before him. And the worst of it all was the effect it was having on the Exarch's own physical state. As the heat was building up in the object of his attention, there was a similar need building up in his own body. He gripped his staff tighter in his crystaline hand, grateful that his wide, flowing robes did well to cover his shame. The one adorning his face and the other one.

The Exarch's eyes were firmly fixed on the hero's now exposed erection. Attentively he watched, as the Warrior's fingers expertly teased the tip, before wrapping themselves around the base. With languid, controlled strokes he was slowly bringing himself to full hardness. 

That was his hero, his inspiration. That was the person he adored most in the world, across all the worlds, and here he was – so open, so vulnerable – right in front of his eyes. The voice of his conscience was screaming at G'raha, that the Warrior was only behaving like that, because he thought himself alone and unobserved. Yet, here he was, abusing the power of the Crystal tower, the power he wanted to use to aid the hero on his burdensome quest, not to violate his trust in this most awful way imaginable. He was upset with himself. But then G'raha could see the first glistening drops of precum pooling on the tip of the Warrior's cock. And he could also no longer deny that he was enjoying what he saw, how he longed to see the Warrior in such a state. It was enticing and he wanted to see much more of that. There was also no denying that he had become embarrassingly hard beneath his garments. The Exarch made his staff vanish from his hand.

How he longed to share that bed with the hero right now. To hold him close and be held in return, to press up against that body, or have that body's weight on top of him, pressing down. How would that skin feel under his fingertips? Under his lips? The tip of his tongue? What would he taste like if he ran his tongue over the tip of his cock, licking away those droplets that had escaped. He would keep eye contact with the hero, while he did it. He would want to see his every reaction, his keen ears picking up any sound the hero would make, be they ever so quiet. Eventually the Exarch would take him into his mouth.

Even though his whole body burned hot with shame and desire, G'raha could no longer help himself. His urges had become unbearable and he had to follow the Warrior's example. And so he threw away the final shreds of what used to be his dignity and brought his hand to his own dick. He hadn't done that in so long, he had to stop himself from moaning at the first touch. The pressure on his growing erection quickly made his mind get hazy. It had been so long. Soon he discovered that just rubbing his cock through the layered fabrics he wore – although the friction was kind of nice at first – ultimately didn't do much besides increasing his frustration. It was good, simply because it provided any form of sensation on his neglected dick. His heart was beating so fast, it was making his head spin. He was becoming needy and beginning to feel dizzy and he decidedly didn't like that and so the Exarch let himself sink down onto the floor of the Ocular.

Never letting his eyes fall off the Warrior, G'raha sat down on his legs first, wanting to feel as little of the cold floor as possible while also trying to sit halfway comfortably. He took a deep breath, before spreading his legs, until he was only sitting on his feet. Even though he was completely clothed, he still felt incredibly obscene in this position. A trembling hand grasped at the hem of his robe, pushing it upwards a bit, granting easy access to his dick. He was behaving so undignified. And he wasn't sure if he liked that. Sadly, he couldn't assuredly say that he didn't. Instead, he tried to shift his attention back to the hero while he let his non-crystal hand slide beneath his robes. He had already determined that he had no pride left to swallow, didn't he? So he let it slip inside his smallclothes right then and there. With practised leisure, the Warrior was rubbing his hand along his shaft, letting out a low groan in delight and the Exarch emulated his deeds. 

The Warrior's cock would probably be too big for G'raha to take him into his mouth completely. And he had to be careful as not to hurt the Warrior with his sharp canines. He would do his best to make the hero feel good. Pleasuring him by grazing his lips along his length, licking it from base to tip and back again, teasing here and there; by sucking on his cock until the hero was writhing and crying out – maybe even begging – until he was close to orgasm. Some other time he would make the Exarch swallow his release. And he would oblige eagerly.

There was a wetness to his own arousal already. The intensity of his imaginations, the view the real Warrior presented, his clever fingers working his cock and how long it had been since the Exarch had last sought out to satisfy the desires of his physical body, it all made him build up his excitement very quickly. If he actually were with the hero right now, he would be deeply embarrassed. And he was already very much ashamed by the whole situation. But strangely now that he had already gone so far, the shame only seemed to further rouse his passion. The touch on his erection was good, but it wasn't enough. He was overcome with the desire to have something inside of him. Also, the fabric of his undergarments started to rub roughly against the sensitive skin of his dick. But he couldn't get them off when seated like this. Almost instinctual he was shifting, lifting his butt just so that he could swiftly push his smallclothes aside. Then he quickly sat down again, repositioning himself in a way that he could better reach his backside. It didn't matter how humiliating it would be, if someone were to find him like this. If the other man could see him now – on the floor, spreading himself open, his ass waiting to receive attention – wanting and eager for the Warrior's cock.

With his undergarments out of the way, he could simply reach for his backside, first groping lightly at each cheek, massaging them very briefly. He couldn't muster the determination to endure much more foreplay, he wanted to move on to the main event as quickly as possible. Also, he wasn't sure how long the Warrior would continue his own play. So far, the man was certainly drawing things out, clearly relaxed and unhurried in his touches. But the Exarch wasn't as patient. Just as the hero had done earlier, G'raha lifted his hand up to his lips, lapping at his fingers. Flashes of his earlier daydream came back to him and he put them into his mouth. He was sucking them in – swirling his tongue around them, trying to get them sufficiently wet – pretending he was pleasuring the Warrior of Light. He didn't want to think about what a sight he must give right now. In this regard, he and the hero matched. When his fingers were as slippery as they could possibly get given the circumstances, the Exarch didn't waste any time in reaching towards his hole. 

The touch of moist fingertips against his entrance wasn't something G'raha was used to. Or maybe he had just forgotten how it felt. It was strange, but not unpleasant and the first touch had made his eyelids flutter. But it also made his nerves began to stir up again. It was all just so strange. He would soon work his fingers inside himself. He was going to do it while watching his hero toying lazily with his cock. The surreality of the whole situation was a vague thought simmering somewhere in his feverish mind. It felt intimate – in a twisted and confusing way.

G'raha was playing with the rim of his hole, feeling it throb at the sensation. He was getting more excited, more impatient. All he could think about was how good it would feel to have the Warrior's cock inside him. But his fingers were all he had as a substitute. If he wanted to go through with this, he needed to relax, to breathe and prepare. The Crystal Exarch concentrated on the soft, wet touches against his hole and the tingling he felt when his rim was lightly caressed. Even when it was done by his own hand, it was fairly enjoyable. Bit by bit his nervousness began to melt away under his loving care. And when the Exarch knew he was as ready as he'd ever be, he began to push a finger inside. His finger felt cold in contrast to the warmth of his body, despite his best efforts of warming it up a bit. 

Scenes were rapidly flickering along his inner eye – him straddling the hero, slowly sinking down onto his thick cock – the Warrior on top of him, pressing him into the mattress, entering him – him on his hand and knees, a strong hand on his hip, the hero stroking the tip of his cock against his twitching, waiting hole and then pushing in – 

All of that and more and none of it would ever be enough. He didn't care how it happened, all he craved was to feel every ilm of the Warrior's hard length being forced into him, his tight entrance stretching around the intruding cock, making it ever more difficult to adjust. And he would breathe and moan and encourage the hero to keep going. He wanted it to ache, needed to feel himself be stretched out until the hero was finally, fully buried inside him – penetrating into his deepest core. 

And when the hero was seated perfectly inside him, he would feel wonderful and complete and connected with the person he adored the most. And then he would present a special sight to the Warrior: flushed and naked – impaled on his cock. Sparks spread all over G'raha's body, tickling under his skin and making him shiver. 

He was arching his finger, massaging his insides fervently and a soft moan escaped his lips, not to be heard by anyone. He felt reminded of the time he was calling out to the Warrior, across the rift, his call echoing through time and space, into the Source. Hoping his voice would ring through, would reach the man. Only this time, he knew he could not get an answer. His cries would not breach the distance between them. Why did he seem so much further away, despite that they were no longer worlds apart? There was a pang in his heart the Exarch had trouble acknowledging, that he really couldn't face right now. Fortunately, he was already providing himself with a compelling distraction. Briskly, he applied more pressure to his fumbling, getting more daring in his exploration.

When he had accustomed to the feeling of his finger and the rubbing of his inner walls started to feel quite pleasurable, he wondered if he could dare to add a second one. Just having something in him was nice, but he needed more. He withdrew the digit almost completely, so he had easier access and slowly, experimentally tried to re-enter himself with two fingers. There was a greater pressure on his rim and pushing in was made more difficult by the trembling of his hand. From nerves and need alike. But after a moment of prodding at his hole and trying to relax his muscles, he managed to push in. The stretch was definitely more uncomfortable, but nothing he couldn't handle. The hero's cock must feel even bigger inside him. The thought was thrilling in multiple senses. He would surely twitch around the other man, as he did around his fingers, which he had slowly worked inside up to his knuckles. He took a shaky breath, getting used to the intrusion. Surely his hero would also give him some time to adapt, staying still, resting with his hips flush against Graha's ass, before – The Exarch began to pull his fingers out a bit and then just as carefully, inserted them once more. 

The Warrior would start fucking him in earnest. Slow at first, withdrawing until only the tip of his cock was still buried inside him and then he would deliberately push in again, making sure the Exarch would feel the entire length of him every single time. The Exarch would welcome him taking his time, focused on the sensation and the task of keeping himself open and relaxed for his hero. But whenever the Warrior assaulted his hole with a particularly forceful thrust, accidentally brushing against his prostate, he would clench around him, drawing the most wonderful of noises from the hero's throat. 

The Exarch was moving his fingers in synch with his fantasy. His thighs and back had begun to strain from the exertion of keeping himself upright, but he couldn't care less. 

After a while the other man would increase the force with which he was slamming into his ass. His thrusts would become more vigorous, but not less purposeful. The Warrior's thick cock was stirring up his insides and making him cry out in pain and pleasure. And when the Exarch brushed against his prostate, he imagined the Warrior's cock doing the same. He kept teasing his most sensitive point, envisioning the Warrior aiming for the spot and hitting it on all of his thrusts.

The Exarch's dick was painfully hard, pointing upwards at his belly, leaking precum against the fabric of his clothes where a damp stain was becoming visible. It was crude. But he didn't dare touch his dick. He was already approaching the edge. Even the smallest stimulation and he would – His breath came out in uneven pants. He was moaning and whining unabashedly.

A glance at the Warrior of Light told him, that his hero seemed to be faring not much better. Except, that he was probably feeling very, very good right now. Light beads of sweat had started to form on his forehead. The hero's eyes were clenched shut, his head thrown back on his pillow, mouth lightly agape to allow for shallow breathing. G'raha knew exactly how the Warrior of Light felt right now, how the fire burning in his lower belly was almost unbearable. The hand on his cock had picked up in speed as well, the other hand desperately grasping at the sheets next to his thigh. The Exarch was rubbing his prostate more vigorously. They were both so close.

In his mind the Warrior was now slamming into him relentlessly. The increase in the speed of his thrusts coaxing louder and louder moans from his throat. His ass would be sore from the pounding he had taken, but it would have been worth it. 

The Warrior shuddered with the intensity of his approaching orgasm. He had visible difficulty keeping his rhythm steady and couldn't keep himself from bucking upwards into his hand, meeting his strokes impatiently. He was jerking fast now, his back arching, until – finally, his pleasure overtook him and with a choked moan and trembling hands he reached his climax. With his swollen cock twitching, the Warrior was coming over his hand and lower belly.

And then the Warrior would grasp at his hips pushing into him as hard as he could. The hero's cock would be throbbing deep inside his well-used hole as he came, coating his walls in his seed.

The world exploded into stars and bliss. With a choked cry of the Warrior's name that echoed back off the walls of the Ocular, the Exarch found his release. His untouched dick spattering the insides of his robes with sticky, hot fluid. 

G'raha let himself sink down, bracing himself against the floor with both hands. He needed to catch his breath and wait for his senses to return to him. His heart was pounding in his head, his vision was blurry and everything was muted from the intensity of his orgasm. 

Unfortunately, along with the return of his senses, he actually came back to his senses. This was it. This was officially it. He had reached his lowest moment to date. What had he just done? Instinctively he covered his face in his hands, only to remember where one of them had just been, so he quickly yanked that one away again. How was he ever going to look the other man in the eyes again? Now he had an entirely different reason not to let the Warrior of Light see his face. He didn't even know how he should feel after what had just transpired. Ashamed? Disgusted? Horrified? Sick? Certainly all of the above applied. Was it possible to die of shame? Could it please be? Then again, he deserved to feel all the bad things in the world. How could he have done this to the Warrior of Light, to his inspiration, to the man that he – ? 

Then he remembered that the hero's room would still be on display and the least he owed the other man was to grant him his privacy. So, when he was sure that his sight lost the fuzziness to its edges, he removed his crystal hand from his eyes and carefully glanced at the Warrior.

The man was still lying in bed. But now he was comfortably tucked in under soft blankets, the dimmed lamps still casting their otherworldly light on his features. His eyes were closed, but without strain, his mouth slightly open, but his breathing calm and steady. Huh. He looked...to be fine? For all G'raha could tell, his hero was alright and unscathed, having fallen into sound and peaceful sleep. There had been no harm done to him by the Exarch's hand. And for a moment he felt the knot in his chest loosen and he breathed a sigh of relieve. His actions, however inappropriate they had been, had not actively hurt the Warrior. And for now that was all that mattered. For later, he determined, he would find a way to atone. 

It had started out as an accident, but then he did something terrible. He had made a mistake. And he would make it right again. Because he might look at the Warrior of Light with a myriad of different emotions: wonder, adoration, affection, longing, desire, hope – 

But he would never want to look at him with guilt.

**Author's Note:**

> Why did I leave the ending open for continuation? Who's to say?


End file.
